British Indian Shanti Dynamite New Video

Would I be in hospital, prison or alone in the restaurant tonight? At half past seven I was in Harper Street. I’d spent three hours trying to decide the image I wanted to portray, which had resulted in the contents of my wardrobe being spread across my bed. I thought the black leather jacket, white dress shirt and designer denim jeans would allow me to look smart and casual. A heavy rain shower that began suddenly as I came out of the tube station had left my trousers damp and my hair unkempt. The wet road reflected a blaze of colour. Red car tail lights, orange street lamps, white headlamps and the many colours of neon shop lights. Perhaps if I’d noticed the puddle in the gutter around a blocked drain I might have avoided it – the speeding taxi didn’t and I could only estimate the damage to my Azor la Mode designer shoes. From the unpleasant wet feel of my socks I knew the shoes were soaked. I had intended to wait outside the restaurant but drying off in a comfortable chair had. You were in one of the labs so we snuck in a half hour conversation.’ ‘When was the last time you spoke to Samantha?’ ‘That would be close to three weeks. I called her a day or so ago but got no answer so I left a message.’ I thanked Red and apologized for not asking after her and hung up. I phoned Samantha from my cell phone so she would know who called. I hung up when my call rolled over to voicemail thinking it best not to leave a message. I started contemplating everything that could possibly be happening with Samantha as I stared at the documents Frankie left on my desk for review. Finally shaking off my cycle of dark futile thoughts I told Frankie I was going to see Marlon. I was sure she was on the phone to Red before I even entered the lab. I told Marlon what I wanted and the specs. Marlon started his usual rant about the impossibility of what I was asking. I stood staring at him with a smirk and said, ‘Yeah, right, like it was impossible before our last half dozen insanely.
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